Notion
by Dance Elle Dance
Summary: She's...interesting. And just for thinking that, Letch wants to ram his head into something. Hard. LetchAmber, oneshot


_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own The Hills Have Eyes._

_**Summary: She's…interesting. And just for thinking that, Letch wants to ram his head into something. Hard. LetchAmber, oneshot**_

_It's amazing, the random pairings you can come up with sometimes. I know this one is a bit out of the box, but I hope that y'all enjoy it. I really enjoyed writing this. It's kind of my first venture into "fluffy" territory in the HHE fandom. Hopefully it doesn't seem to awkward. If anyone has questions, feel free to ask! I'd love to hear your opinions on this! Thanks for reading!_

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><p><strong>Notion<strong>

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><p>He wrinkles his nose as he looks at her.<p>

Now, Letch doesn't normally do this - study people. That's Hansel's job. Or that idiot Goggle down at the test village. Letch is all action, coiled up and ready to spring at a moment's notice, but there's something about this particular…_woman_ that causes him to pause and become the observer.

He's not really sure why…everything really is odd, all mixed up. He hasn't felt the same since Hades' death. It's a strange thing, like a lightness in his bones, like the heaviness from living with the abuse of the eldest clan member has finally been lifted…

But he digresses.

He hasn't felt the same since he's laid eyes on _her_, either.

Letch hates that.

He knows that Chameleon is batshit crazy over that Martinez woman. Every time she's able, she comes to the hills to see them. Which is insane. Letch isn't sure which is the craziest - the fact that Chameleon _has _someone or the fact that that someone _wants_ to be with him.

Again, he digresses.

He has his own problems to wonder about, anyway. Like the most current, perplexing one.

_Amber._

The name comes, unbidden, though his thoughts. Almost like a reflex. That is how it's been the past few days, something that he can't seem to control, her name, blasting through his thoughts like a grenade.

_Stupid._ Follows it. Seems the only logical option, to follow such a complicated word with such a simple one.

He leans back against a random outcropping of rock, arms folded stubbornly over his chest as he watches them. Really, it is rather sickening. Missy's brought her brat over and Chameleon actually looks _soft _when he stares at the boy. Clyde, Letch thinks his name is, but not that that matters. Not that Letch cares. He's not even sure why he's thinking about all of this in the first place.

A laugh reaches his ears.

Oh. _Right._

She's laughing. _Laughing. _And that sound causes a strange kind of crawling to overtake his mottled, bumpy skin. It was her laugh that drew him to the surface in the first place, so bold and dainty at the same time, calling to him more strongly than a siren's song.

Ugh, he _really _needs to stop reading those books that Chameleon had provided for him. Knowing too many words can be tricky, and Chameleon is the absolute worst of examples of this.

Amber - _Amber_, his mind caresses her name needlessly - looks over at him and offers an awkward smile. She's not like he would've thought originally. Her blonde hair and bright blue eyes, her thin frame, had all the markings of someone that wouldn't even give him a second glance. She carries herself with a confidence that Letch hadn't seen from the many women that had gone in and out of the mines in his days. Like Missy, she's strong, but unlike Missy - who Chameleon had to work with endlessly to get her trust - Amber seems…softer somehow. Like if he were to touch her, she'd be pliable, her skin soft and yielding underneath his rough fingertips.

He knows this isn't true, however. He'd seen the taut muscles of her arms as she climbed the cliffs around him - she liked climbing, he'd noticed, and was rather good at it. Letch is certain if he were to touch her, her muscles would be firm and unyielding against his fingers, but her soft, feminine appearance almost contradicted that fact.

He crosses his arms tighter over his chest, watching the group of people as they move about.

Clyde reaches up and takes Chameleon's hand, "Can I see 'nside the mines?"

Chameleon's cold, blue eyes look down at the young boy, "I do not think that would be a problem. If it is okay with your mother."

Missy looks at the two of them, purses her lips. Letch can see the change there. Had it been earlier in their relationship, her face would have been impassive, and a _no _would have been her answer. "Alright, then. Let's go."

"I wanna see your room, 'meleon!"

Oh, _hell_. Letch bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Chameleon passes him, Clyde tugging on his hand like he's a new toy, and he leads them through the crevasse that leads into the entrance to the mines. Letch snickers as he passes, "Have fun, '_meleon_."

Chameleon almost curses at him, but Missy silences him with a look, "No c-u-s-s-i-n-g in front of my s-o-n."

"You are ignorant," he settles for, and leads his mate and the child into the mines.

"Coming, Amber?" Missy calls.

The woman in question turns around, and something in Letch's chest catches as he stares at her. "I'll be down there in a bit."

Missy nods with a smile and departs.

That leaves just the two of them. Letch and the object of his obsession.

_Damn._

He resolves himself to keeping his muscles rigid, not allowing for any movement. Letch can't have the happen. He doesn't know what he might do, now that they're alone.

He really should get Stabber to…well, _stab _him. Because all of this is ridiculous.

Amber doesn't look at him for a while, just stares off into the distance. They are a ways up in the hills, with a beautiful view - well, for her, probably. For him, it's just the same old shit. Every single day. Whatever.

He watches as she clasps her hands behind her back, slim fingers twining together. Letch clenches his own fingers together in response, as if to suppress the urge to link their his digits with hers.

What the hell is _wrong_ with him?

All his life, he was taught to not let emotions get in the way of anything. He was taught that women were objects to further the clan. This was his own father's preaching, that of which he had to follow, almost like a soldier. Ironic, considering the company they kept recently…

And then Hades died. And everything got turned on its head. Letch didn't know what to do with himself after that happened. Their leader, as twisted as he was, was dead, and now…nothing really made sense any more.

Chameleon had been changed by that girl. Sure, he had always been smart, arrogant, silent. Just because he taught himself how to read through their victims' reading material. Once the thumb of Hades had been lifted…he had been able to embrace things more readily.

Letch digresses.

He shouldn't be thinking like this. Sure, the changes in Chameleon could be seen as "good" by other people, but Letch wanted to keep his head. He wanted to be able to control his own life, and not allow people to get the better of him.

Especially not this blonde…blue-eyed…ethereal-looking…

_Damn it!_ he thinks, crushing his hand around a rock until blood seeps between his fingers.

Has he mentioned that he hates feeling this way?

Amber then looks him, and suddenly he wonders when he started referring to her by her name and not by a pronoun or _that girl _or _bitch_. It's an intriguing question, one that makes him think longer than he is used to.

She's staring at him like she's intrigued for some reason. Amused. Somehow, he likes the look of lightness in her eyes. That strange, joking, lightness that sets his teeth on edge and causes him to want to ram the rock against the side of his skull at the same time.

"You're really tense," she says, and then her amused look turns impish. "It's kind of funny."

He draws back his lips, shows his teeth, "I could kill you."

She shrugs, "I could take you."

Funny thing is, he knows that she _could_.

He tosses the rock to the ground and she looks at him quizzically, her brows pulling over her eyes in a strangely attractive way.

Letch stands, towering over her. She doesn't flinch, only eyes him in a way that _dares_ him to do something. She sets her jaw and crosses her arms, cradling her elbows with her hands. She opens her mouth to say something when he cuts her off.

"I ain't Chameleon." The words are bitter almost, but the anger outmaneuvers it. "That ain't me. Ain't…_nice_. Or _smart._ I could kill you right now because I ain't not him. I can't be him. Don't drop your guard around me."

Amber quirks her head to the side, and that same damned amused smile is on your face. She tilts her head up, defiance and light-heartedness meshing together in those oddly blue eyes. "You're more like him than you think."

Letch growls, "Don't push it - "

"If you were like your _father_," she spat the word as if it were poison, "then you would have killed me already. No warning. Or you would have had your way with me. No warning."

Then Amber grins, bright and lovely against her tanned skin, "So, no, you aren't Chameleon, but you're not the monster you think you are."

For once, Letch is stunned.

He stands there, the sun beaming down on his rough skin, in a state of shock until she pats him on the shoulder, her fingers lingering there for just a moment before she laughs - he _hates_ how appealing the sound is to him - and heads to the entrance to the mines.

"C'mon, then, don't you wanna see _'meleon's _room?"

He barks a surprised laugh at her humor, and then stops himself. She looks pleased at the fact that she's made him laugh.

Letch recovers. "Not really," he says, but he watches her as she turns and ducks through the entrance. Idly, he thinks, _She could get lost._

So he follows her, guiding her in the direction of the friendly voices ahead of them with his hand pressing lightly on the small of her back, thinking that maybe - _just maybe _- change isn't so bad, after all.

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><p><em><strong>End.<strong>_


End file.
